


enigmatic

by lethargicProfessor



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Crack, Damian Wayne is Robin, Gen, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24500014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: It's not rare for the Batman to approach his rogues gallery -- they've certainly gotten to know each other over the years.Itisrare for him to ask a favor.The Riddler can't be blamed for hearing him out.-(Bruce Wayne is a tired dad, and his kids need to learn a lesson. )
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	enigmatic

“Nygma.”

Riddler doesn’t startle so much as launch himself upright entirely on purpose. The sweat that gathers in his brow is from the exertion, of course, and not from the fright of having the goddamn Batman approach him in his warehouse uninvited.

He sniffs instead, crossing his arms and pinning the detective with a look that should make the cretin cower. “I haven’t done anything yet, you can’t arrest me.”

“I know.” Now, villains in other places think the Bat is a brooding, dark mess with no sense of humor – and he is, most times – but Riddler knows when the Bat’s in a good mood. He may not show it outwardly, but it’s there. It’s a learned skill. And he knows the Bat’s amused, if not outright smirking. 

Relaxing now that he knows he’s safe, Riddler leans back in his chair, letting it roll and thump against his workbench. “Then? Why are you here? You don’t do house calls often.”

The Bat moves away from the shadows, melting out of the inky blackness with a grace Riddler _would_ envy if he cared. “I have a proposition.”

“Oh?” Riddler pretends to ponder it, the light off his computer screen throwing the Bat into sickly green. It’s a good look, and he can’t say he’s not intrigued. Riddler waves a hand, a king allowing his court to continue. “Go on.”

“Eddie.” The Bat sighs, and it’s in those little moments that he seems most human. Riddler would even dare suggest he sounds like a tired middle-aged dad, and not a vigilante parading around in kevlar. “How do you feel about making a specialized…” He ponders the thought for a second, seeming to spit it out with some reserve. “Test? Encounter? Enigma? For me?”

“What’s the catch?” There’s always a catch. Riddler watches the Bat’s shoulders draw, and suddenly, the annoyance is palpable in the line of his shoulders.

“It’s to teach the boys a lesson.”

_Oh._ Riddler tuts to himself and rocks in his chair, watching the Bat stand, a gargoyle in the dim light. He’s unflappable, and despite the obvious annoyance, isn’t really giving anything away. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re using me to punish your kids, Bats.” Pros and cons, pros and cons… The birdbrains aren’t as fun to trick as the Bat himself, but Riddler supposes it’d be an interesting challenge. 

Bats, the bastard, only shrugs. “I am. It’s good practice for them. Exercises the mind.”

“I can’t say you’re wrong.” Riddler preens, spinning in his chair to begin typing on the computer. He was working on a city-wide riddle, but nothing was really sticking just yet. He could shelve it and focus on the brats for now. Who knows, it might even give him some inspiration. “Parameters?”

“No killing.” The Bat says, as if that wasn’t a given. It’s no good killing the mice in the maze before they can solve the problem. “Preferably something that makes them work together. I don’t want one of them incapacitating the other to get out first.”

“I’m glad I’m an only child,” Riddler mutters, tutting under his breath. “Who do I get to play with this time? Not Hood, he has no finesse.” The last time Hood got stuck in one of his traps, the brat just wrecked his way through it. It ruined everything and set Riddler back ages trying to rebuild.

“Robin and Red Robin. Or Drake, I don’t know what he’s going by these days.” Aggrieved, the Bat swishes his cape around. “More brainteaser than weapon oriented, if that’s not too much trouble.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Riddler would be offended, but the ideas are getting jumbled in his head with how fast they’re coming. He knows he’s mumbling, but nothing can dampen the thrill of a new puzzle. “Anything else?”

“As long as they don’t get too hurt.” Bats shrugs again, the material of his suit making noise with the movement. “I’ll consider this a favor. No escape from Arkham, but a favor.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Riddler hums, waving his hand over his shoulder. “Get out. I have plans and I don’t need you hovering over my shoulder. Give me two days and I’ll have something.”

“Thank you, Eddie. Don’t work too hard.” The Bat snorts at the irritated spitting noise Riddler throws over his shoulder. 

He’ll remember to be offended at the request later, probably. It’s not often Eddie gets a chance to really enjoy himself. He supposes he appreciates that.


End file.
